

Larry Wallace Grissom, 71, of Friendswood, Texas, died February 2nd, 2022, nine months after receiving a diagnosis for terminal brain cancer and stalwartly enduring the full treatment of chemotherapy and radiation. Larry was born to Herman Wallace Grissom and Ina Mardee Grissom in Artesia, New Mexico on September 21st, 1950. He was raised predominantly in the farming community of Rhea, near Bovina, Texas with his brothers, Royce, Don, and Chip.
Larry attended West Texas State University from 1968 to 1972, graduating with a Bachelors in Math and Education. He attended Texas Tech University from 1975 to 1977 while simultaneously teaching public school, driving a school bus, and selling shoes at Sears. After graduating with a Masters in Math, he took a job at NASA, driving from Lubbock to Houston with his wife, two dogs, and all their possessions packed into a tiny pickup truck.
Larry's first position at NASA was in the Flight Simulation Division of the JSC Data Systems and Analysis Directorate, developing mathematical models for the Shuttle's onboard systems. In 1988 he accepted a position in Mission Operations Directorate, then became Office Chief for Facilities Reconfiguration Office the following year. He subsequently worked on the ISS in various capacities for the next twenty years: a transfer to the Space Station Avionics Verification Office in 1991; another transfer to the Engineering Simulators Branch of the Automation, Robotics, and Simulation Division in 1995; a reassignment to Flight Robotic Systems Branch in 2003; and a final appointment to ISS Robotics in 2014. After forty-three years as a civil servant, he retired in December of 2020.
More than his work history or his education, Larry was a son, a husband, a father, and a friend. He drove home from college as often as he could to help his parents around the farm. He helped support his mother from across the state after his father died. He worked hard at his job to provide for his family, made time for homework and family trips, sang his children to sleep when they were infants, and contracted himself as handyman for nearly every project around the house. He was a craftsman, a woodworker, electrician, plumber, and architect. Larry had a kind word and a smile for everyone he met, a bit of West Texas wit for anyone fortunate enough to hear it.
Though he moved away when he was young, the farm life was never left behind. Larry spent his free time cultivating what he called “a little slice of heaven”, a microcosm of the community where he'd grown up working with his father and brothers. He designed and built a barn with his sons' help, and rode horses with his daughter and granddaughters. Places were found for rabbits, chickens, pigs, dogs, and cats because Larry loved animals, especially his horses.
Larry is survived by his three children, Justin, Brandon, and Reagan; five grandchildren, Sadie, Jocelyn, Emery, Alexis, and Zikora; son-in-law, KC; and granddaughter by marriage, Cassidy. This doesn't include his extended family, his NASA family, his trivia family, his horse-riding family, his church family, and his neighborhood family. Through Christmas letters, flower deliveries, social events, birthday cakes at work, and a helping hand or open ear whenever it was needed, he made every acquaintance a friend and every friend a family member.
From working the fields on a small farm in the Texas Panhandle to coordinating with international teams in support of projects at NASA, Larry lived more than 71 years should be able to hold. He was a proud American, happily declaring his birthday as the day he received his US citizenship. He believed in the American dream because he lived it. He believed in the power of honesty, hard work, faith, and family. And he lived what he believed. At his core he was the simple man no one suspected could be hidden behind the vast vocabulary and bottomless depth of knowledge floating behind his eyes. His impeccable and meticulously maintained appearance, the flowing art of his handwriting, the air of professional decorum that followed him in formal gatherings, it was all belied by the boisterous and unmistakable laugh that never failed to fill a room.
SHARE OBITUARYSHARE
v.1.18.0